


When you come falling I’ll be here still waiting

by Oddleoo



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Adopted Sibling Relationship, Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Canonical Character Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, Not A Fix-It, Parent Tony Stark, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Really this is terrible, im sad, no beta we die like women
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2020-02-27 12:53:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18739441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oddleoo/pseuds/Oddleoo
Summary: He wishes things were different.





	When you come falling I’ll be here still waiting

**Author's Note:**

> This is not a fix-it fic by any means (though I might have a little something planned that completely disregards what happens in Endgame because I am bitter and grieving.) I started writing this while angsty and continued it after I watched the new FFH trailer, and got Sad all over again. I hope that the writers don't skimp out on the opportunity to let Morgan and Peter (and maybe even Harley) meet. It might just make it hurt less. 
> 
>  
> 
> Title comes from the song "I'm Gonna Wait" by The Temper Trap

 

 

 

 

The press has taken to calling it, ‘The Surge’- a revival, a miracle- but all Peter knows it as is coming home.

They say he’s been dead for 5 years. That the world had gone and moved on with half the population gone up in ash and dust. That though 5 years have passed, those who ‘died’ hadn’t aged a day.

It was a weird thing to think about because he hadn’t _felt_ dead. He hadn’t really felt anything at all.

One second, he was falling into his mentor's arms, body buzzing with the premonition of trillions of simultaneous deaths, saying ‘ _I’m sorry_ ’ while blackness grew around the edges of his vision. And then he was back again, reformed in ashes, right back on the orange planet. Doctor Strange was telling him that 5 years had gone by, and the world- the Avengers— needed their help.

And then... _everything_ had happened, and he still feels like he’d been gone for a minute at most.

A lot could happen in five years. He’s not sure who was more fortunate- those who happened to be one’s taken in the snap, or those who were left behind. Fortunate or not, all of his friends had come back in the Surge- his Aunt too, so they hadn’t had to live life without each other. But they _had_ been dead. Peter especially is having a hard time coming to terms with the fact that some of the classmates he’s known since kindergarten have graduated and are midway through college. Mr. Delmar had been left behind, and when Peter walked in his shop after the world had settled into something almost resembling normal, he found that the man looked a lot older- and he knows it’s not just the years that aged him.

Tony Stark had been left behind, and he went and had a child.

_She’s 5 years old_ , Pepper tells him, when he visits their middling cabin for the first time, after the Surge. After the war. After the funeral. _She’s just like him, Peter. She’s smart, and snarky, and talks to the robots like they’re real. She has his eyes. You’ll love her._

Peter thinks it’s possible that he loves her before he even knows her.

They had met very briefly at the funeral. He caught a glimpse of her while she was passing from the living room into her bedroom. They’d made eye contact for maybe a second, and she’d waved. Peter hadn’t stuck around long enough for them to have a meeting of any real substance. He’d left pretty soon after the funeral had ended.

Being around his house felt... _wrong_.

It didn’t feel like Mr. Stark’s home, because Peter remembered Tony living in the compound, _before_.

Peter was having a hard time coming to terms with the fact that everything that he knew- every ‘ _before’_ \- had long since passed, and there was nothing he could do about it.

When he and Morgan meet, officially, it’s Pepper that introduces them. He’s visiting with May this time around, because the women have become something like friends since the Surge. Friendships were often formed through similar circumstances, and Pepper and May have _very_ similar circumstances.

Peter wishes they didn’t.

Pepper puts a hand against Peter’s back and leads him through a hallway. The walls are off-grey, lined with many pictures. From the corner of his eyes, he catches a wood-frame with the words, ‘#1 Dad’ emblazoned across the bottom.

He can’t look at them.

It hurts to see his face- which is a pretty damning thing to realize, because in the wake of a death, as perpetuated as ‘the great Iron-Man’s’, Tony Stark is _everywhere_. He turns on the t.v. and there are commemorative t.v spots for the ‘gone, but not forgotten’ heroes. Tony Stark’s smiling face has been immortalized on flags, poster-boards, newly imparted statues. He’s in the alleyways Peter used to change in. The walls he passes when he goes to school. In the whispers he hears in the halls- students and faculty alike, pretending to care when before, they’d been quick to bash Tony Stark and all his supposed 'flaws' before he went and died for them. He’s in their sorry faces when they see Peter Parker, alleged Stark Intern, and say, ‘ _hey, didn’t that Peter kid know him, like personally?’_

He’s everywhere, and Peter _hates_ it.

When Ben had died, for a long while, he’d been able to kid himself into believing that he was still alive. He’d cut himself off from the grief, spending his days holed up in his room, where he didn’t have to see May scry. He'd say, ‘ _Ben’s coming home soon’, ‘Ben will call soon’, ‘He just went out to get some milk’._

Peter couldn’t pretend this time.

Because everywhere he went, his attempts to convince himself that Tony hadn't died were effectively squandered. He's forever slapped in the face with the news that ‘Tony Stark, the Iron hero, is _dead’_.

He wishes things were different.

Because grief is not fleeting, as has been proven to him many times throughout his life. He’s lost so much -he should be used to losing by now- but he isn’t. It still hurts, and it’s when you lose someone again, and again, that passive grief comes back full force, and it chokes you. He misses Tony like he’s missed his parents, and Ben, but it’s worse now, because every loss has been compounded on, and he’s missing all of them at once. He’s suffocating, because grief is like cold- like scooping out your insides and filling the void with ice.

He wonders if the feeling will ever go away.

Morgan’s sitting in the middle of her room, toying with a circuit board, tongue peeking from the corner of her mouth in Iron-man themed PJ’s. Her room isn’t an ample representation of what a 5-year old’s room ought to look like. There are a few colorful drawings of stick-figures -labeled MOMMY, DADDY, ME, FRIDAY above the heads- taped to the walls, and an impressive collection of beanie babies piled in the corner of her bed- but her room is otherwise pretty tame.

Which was unexpected, to say the least.

Tony Stark thought the fastest way to someone’s heart was through spending, and often showed his affection through gifts. Peter expected her room to be filled with a lot of things. But it’s not- and the realization hits hard, that maybe, in the five years he’d been gone, Tony let go of that mentality and started loving through more conventional ways.

The realization hurts.

“Hun, I have someone I want you to meet.”

Pepper pushes Peter forward, and Morgan looks up from the board, nose and brows scrunching up.

She stands and patters over, a childish bounce to her step, and plants herself in front of Peter. He doesn’t think about the cold.

“Hi,” she says, then, with a quirked brow, “You’re tall.”

Peter smiles and decides that Pepper was right. He did love her, because it wasn’t very often at all that anyone- and any Starks, for that matter- considered him tall.

Pepper leaves them once they have both settled in the middle of the rug, the little circuit between them. Peter picks it up and turns in his hands.

“What’s this from?”

“Robby," she points at a toy robot in the corner of her bed, sandwiched between 2 walrus and lion beanie babies, "Me and Daddy we’re gonna fix him, before.”

She doesn’t look sad- at least, not as sad as Peter thinks is warranted. Pepper says she doesn’t really understand what ‘death’ means yet, and she stills asks every day when her dad’s coming home. Pepper says he isn’t, and Morgan takes that as he’s not coming home _today_ , but maybe _tomorrow_. It probably doesn’t help that Tony had the forethought to make enough holographic messages to sustain them for a while. Sometimes, it feels like he’s there, but more often, Peter feels his absence wholeheartedly.

Peter takes Robby and puts it between them.

“What happened to him?”

“He fell in the lake. Water’s no good for robots.”

“No, it isn’t,” he flips the robot over, poking at the gaping hole in the back where the circuit board had been pried out.

Water damage wasn’t impossible to fix. He’d done something similar for his own phone before after he’d lost it to the elements. (Read; after he’d been punched out by 3 muggers and it flew into a puddle.)

“Do you think you can fix em?”

Peter looks up, and Morgan looks expectant.

“Of course,” he smiles, “We can definitely fix him.”

Morgan takes him to Tony’s ‘lab’. It’s less a lab and more a bedroom with a few holo-screens for lab tables, and metal tool boxes.

U and Dum-E are there too, but they are dormant. Apparently, they haven’t really been ‘present’ since Tony.

Peter understands.

They prop Robby onto the table- Morgan climbs onto it and sits on her heels.

“FRIDAY, think you can do a scan of Robby the Robot here? See what’s damaged?”

“Of course. It’s good to see you, Mr. Parker.”

He chuckles, “You too, FRI. You can call me Peter, though. Mister makes me feel old.”

He stops- the cold spreading- a familiar voice rings in his head.

_‘Enough with the Mister thing. It’s Tony, kid. God, you really know how to make me feel old’._

“Of course, Peter.”

The room fills with the blue light of FRIDAY’s scan. Morgan giggles when the light passes over her face, and it’s enough to shake him out of his thoughts.

“Robby has sustained significant water damage. Base station contacts are a bit corroded, and the power supply is in need of replacement.”

Morgan frowns.

“Are there any power supply’s laying around here?”

“Boss kept some in the bottom drawer of the cabinet to your left.”

He ignores pang in his chest. _'(kept'_. He shouldn't have to refer to Tony in the past tense.)

“Thanks, Fri. You’re the best.”

“You’re Welcome, Peter.”

He rummages through the drawer until he finds a small enough power-supply box, then one of Tony’s tool boxes. Morgan takes Robby in her arms and a small plastic toolbox of her own, grinning wide.

“Bye FRIDAY!” Morgan calls out, and they start for the door.

“Bye, Morgan. Peter- before you go- I’m programmed to tell you that Boss’s message is still waiting to be-“

“I’m fine, Fri. Thanks but, I think I’m gonna help Morgan now.”

Friday doesn’t say anything more, and he’s glad. It’s enough with just May and Pepper pestering him about the message he refuses to hear.

They think it’s because he’s not ready yet, but that's not the whole truth.

He’d met Harley Keener for the first time at the funeral, very briefly, but enough to decide that if they had met under different circumstances, they would’ve become good friends. “Nice to see that Tony had another mega-nerd to keep him company while I was in Tennessee. I gotta say I’m a bit hurt that he replaced me so fast- but, them’s the breaks.” He had said, in lieu of an actual introduction. He’d reminded Peter a lot of Tony, and that had hurt, especially while his wounds were still festering. But he’d been nice- a really funny guy. The humor and optimism for the future had been pretty lax that day, up until he had started talking.

They talked a lot about building stuff- Peter may have sort of let slip that he was Spider-Man, and Harley had slapped him on the back and said, ‘ _Of course Spider-Man had to be a teenager. I called it- right from the start, I knew you had to be. Your Gen Z humor was too on point’._

They’d been having a good time- all things considered- up until the point when Pepper walked into the living room where they were sprawled on the couch, with her eyes glassy and tired, and said that Tony had left them both a message.

“You might want to be alone when you hear yours. They’re a bit-“ she had laughed in a very flat way that didn’t sound right coming from Pepper- “Well, it’s Tony. He only ever gets- _got_ personal when speaking to a screen.”

Harley had gone first.

He'd only been in the room for a few minutes, but he had left the room with his face a mess and his eyes holding a storm. Not grief, not sadness. _Anger_.

He’d stomped out of the house- Pepper had gone out to follow him-and Peter didn’t see him again, until he returned a few hours later to gather his belongings. Peter had asked what Tony had to say, and Harley had said, ‘y _ou won’t like it. I didn’t. He’s a goddamn self-sacrificing idiot_.’

And then he left.

And Peter had decided not to see his message that day- or any day after, for that matter. Pepper called, and May pried, Happy asked too many goddamn questions, so he just gave them the false pretense that he wasn’t ready yet.

He wants to see Tony. But he isn’t ready to hear what he has to say. Peter knows it can’t be anything good if Harley -so willing to smile on a day where nobody was- was also willing to let himself get so angry. 

Peter and Morgan fix Robby up.

They replace the power supply and clean the corroded contacts. Morgan places the circuit back in place and pops 2 batteries into the back. Morgan holds the battery cover in place while Peter turns the screws with one of Morgan’s plastic screwdrivers.

“Morgan, will you do the honors of reviving our good friend Robby?” He presents her the robot, all dramatic, and she giggles.

She takes Robby into her hands and flicks a stubby finger over the on switch.

Robby whirs back to life, red lights and LED display glowing.

“He’s alive!” Morgan jumps and grins, and Peter finds himself grinning too- something he hasn’t done in earnest for a while.

“We did it, Morgan! We’re so cool!”

He holds up his hand and she high-fives him, a little aggressive.

“The coolest! I can’t wait to show Daddy!”

And just like that- the cold is back, and it’s consuming him from the inside out. He’s glad Morgan’s too busy hopping around, giggling, yelling about how Robby was going to save the world, to pay much attention to his face.

He feels cold.

 

* * *

 

He isn’t sure what makes him decide, but two days later he’s calling Pepper from his bedroom, saying, ‘I’m ready’ despite the churning in his stomach.

He’s given a day to prepare, before Happy rolls up and delivers him a small metal box, about the size of a deck of cards.

“Here you go, kid,” he says, and smiles in a very not-happy-like way.

“Thanks, Happy.”

“No problem, kid. Just... just, say hello for me, yeah?”

Peter’s stomach coils, but he still finds it in himself to smile.

He passes by the living room on his way to his bedroom. May’s sitting on the couch with a book in her lap. She gives him a smile while he passes- encouraging, but still a little pensive, like she knows that the Peter that goes in won’t be the same Peter that comes out.

He’d changed after Ben- it’d be the same with Tony.

He sits on his bed, with the metal box sitting on the carpet in front of him. He stares at it for a long time, wondering if he really was ready yet.

Yesterday he woke up with his grief and the need to see Tony at the forefront of his mind. He’d been feeling like that since his day with Morgan. Maybe it was the fact that she reminded him so much of the man- with her familiar snark and searching looks. Maybe it was just him, deciding that he’d waited long enough. That if he wasn’t ready now, then he never would be.

He wants to believe, that the moment he clicks the button on the top of the box, that he’ll find peace- something to remedy his grief, and the cold. He knows he won’t- grief doesn’t just go away. He learned that a long time ago and continues to relearn it every time he loses.

He leans down and clicks the button.

Immediately, the box unfolds and out comes a blue-tinged projection of Tony Stark, in a faded ACDC t-shirt and a blue suit jacket.

He looks older- Peter hadn’t really been able to take notice of that before, in the midst of battle- playing keep away with a gauntlet and a megalomaniac. But his hair is lighter than he remembered. He must’ve dyed it.

“Hello?” He begins, and slowly, the cold spreads.

 

_

 

Tony's hologram blinks away, and his tight-lipped smile goes with it.

Peter stares. He stares and stares, where he's knelt in front of where the man had once stood, and he feels like the world is spinning. He feels void- not even _cold_. It isn't until he's scooped up the metal box and stuffed it in his pocket, and he's left his room and May asks from the couch, ' _are you okay?_ ' and his words echo in his head all over again- _'Be better, kid. Better than me and all the rest'_ \- that it all comes crashing. 

Peter gets it now. He knows why Harley had been so angry. 

He's been stuck in the denial stage since the funeral. But he's _angry_ now. He wants to throw the metal box across the room. He wants to scream, because he misses Tony- but it's more than that, because if there's one thing Tony's message made clear, it's that Tony had anticipated his death, and hadn't tried to do a thing to change it. Irrationally, probably, he hates him. He hates himself for not being there. Maybe he could've done something? Maybe, _someone_ could have done something, if only Tony hadn't been so recklessly selfless. 

He doesn't register the arms around him- the hand carding through his hair, whispering empty promises that things would turn out all right. 

He knows things would turn out okay. They had after his parents, and they had after Ben, and they would after Tony.

But for now, he cries, and he rides the grief, and bides his time until he falls into acceptance

 

* * *

 

“It’s starting to rain.”

Peter glances upwards, scrunching up his nose at the expanse of grey when water plip-plops onto his nose. It’s a cloudy day, maybe gloomy for the rest of the world, but not them. Peter’s always liked the rain, and Morgan and Harley were both great at making up games to play in the rain.

The world is mourning- but Peter, Harley, and Morgan are decidedly not.

Today’s the 2 year anniversary of his passing, but Peter can’t bring himself to mourn too much- and it seems like Harley and Morgan feel much the same.

They celebrate what they once had, and that’s enough.

“Maybe we can jump in the puddles later if it’s not too cold.”

“Yeah, and we can play the lightning game if it gets stormy.”

Overhead, a rumbling sounds. They all look to the skies, squinting.

“Sounds like the Almighty Thor’s angry... or Hungry. Or both.”

Peter hums, smiling, “Thor’s hangry.”

Harley snickers.

“Maybe he’s sad.”

Peter startles, and Harley falters where he stands on Morgan’s other side.

“Mo?”

Morgan hasn’t looked away from the lake. The waters are rippling with the steady drips of an approaching storm, but she does not move.

“He and daddy were friends, right? Maybe he’s sad.”

She steps forward, towards the lake. Her feet stop just short of the shoreline. The lake was not Tony Stark’s grave- but it was close enough. It’s where they’d held the funeral, and where they felt closest. Where they came to mourn, and where they came to speak to him.

Morgan’s toes at the lake with her shoe.

Peter and Harley share a look, but they're not worried. They knew what a sad Morgan looked like, and this was not a sad Morgan. This was a resigned Morgan, thinking of and feeling her dad in the best way she could.

“Maybe you’re right, Bug. Maybe he is.”

“Yeah,” she nods, “Yeah, I am.”

She turns away from the lake, her hands shoved into the pockets of her purple windbreaker.

“Can we go inside now? I want hot chocolate.”

Peter and Harley smile. She was a tough one, their sister.

“Heck yeah- I call dibs on the last slice of cheesecake!” Harley calls, and books it, a cackle fleeing his lips.

“Your dibs means nothing if I get there before you!”

Peter runs after him, and Morgan giggles from behind.

“Hey! I want some cheesecake too!”

She scampers on after.

Inevitably, all it takes is 5 seconds of puppy-dogs eyes on Morgan’s part for Peter and Harley to give in, and hand the last slice over to her.

It’s been 2 months since they last saw each other. It’s harder to visit Morgan and Pepper nowadays, with college, and his Spider-Man extracurriculars- fewer heroes means a higher demand for them, and Peter’s just one guy. But Peter comes as often as he can. He sees Harley maybe a little _too_ often- they both go to MIT, and have more than enough time to bother each other in between classes and when they and Ned, hang out in each other's dorms.

Most people assume their brothers by the way they act around each other, and neither of them ever do anything to correct them. They look similar enough.

He and Harley have to go back to school soon- Christmas break only lasted so long, and he’s allotted some days for his Aunt, and visiting MJ at Yale. Still, they see each other as often as they can- Peter makes the 2-hour drive for weekends, and even sometimes on school days when he’s feeling a little cold.

Morgan has just scarfed down the last of her cheesecake, when Harley sits up, looking like he’s just figured out the meaning of life.

“We should build something.”

Peter and Morgan give twin looks of confusion.

“Build something? Like what?”

“I don’t know, I just feel like building something.”

Peter nods.

Building things, he’s found, is a great distraction. He knows why Tony spent so much of his time tinkering in the labs when he could’ve- should've been- sleeping.

‘Build something. Doesn’t matter what it is, just do, and you’ll probably feel better.’

“Alright. Let’s build something.”

“A robot!” Morgan yells, excitement in her eyes.

3 days later, hours before Peter and Harley have to leave, They’ve built a robot.

It takes a lot of puppy-dog eyes all of their parts, this time around, to convince Pepper to let them- but eventually, they do.

In Tony’s lab, FRIDAY helps them map out the schematics for the Bot, affectionately called ‘Iron-Bot’ in the few minutes it took them to decide what the robot’s use would be. U and Dum-E helped too, the best way they knew how. By providing moral support and sometimes, but very rarely, wheeling over with the right tools in hand. (In claw?) Morgan calls their robot a protector- but he’s too small to do much protecting at all. About as small as a French bulldog.

They stare at the bot, all-scrutinizing. It’s not bad for their first robot. It’s no Ultron, or Vision, but it’s about on par with DUM-E and U.

Peter thinks, Tony would be proud.

Harley nods, lips pursed, “Well, he could maybe protect a very small Ant-Man, if it came down to it. Maybe some rats?”

“The rats would probably kill him before he could do any saving.”

Morgan shakes her head, squinting up at them, “He’s perfect. I love him!”

She hugs the robot close to her chest, and it whirs and blinks, and it reminds him a lot of the first day they met, 2 years ago.

They’ve come a long way since then.

They sneak the bag of marshmallows they used for their hot chocolate into the lab, and they sit on the couch, with both Robby the Robot, and the newly created Iron-bot in Morgan’s lap, and Friday cues up their current favorite movie, Big Hero 6 on the holoscreen. Peter’s all smiles, even though he knows that he will have to go back home tomorrow, leave this little bubble behind, and face the music.

The grief hasn’t gone away, though he’s effectively resigned himself from believing that it ever will. And he’s fine with that thought, really. It’s the memory of Tony, and the people’s he’s lost that keeps him going.

Morgan is a microcosm of Tony. Her and Pepper and Harley, and Peter too, were Tony, in a lot of ways. They’re not a blood family- Harley’s still got his mom, and his own sister, and Peter has his Aunt, and Pepper and Morgan have each other and the rest of the world. But, they’re all bonded by one thing- and that’s Tony.

They’re the warmth Peter needs to melt the cold that’s taken root beneath his skin.

Tony asked him to protect them, all those years ago, but Peter probably would’ve done so anyway. Happy and Rhodey could use the help.

He stares at the two beside him- remembers a time last year when Morgan had duck-taped a glowing spike-ball to her chest and skipped around the living room, a thick mask over her eyes, and Harley and Peter pretended to be her arch-nemesis’s- and he smiles.

The cold has long since receded, replaced by a warmth that he can’t quite put into words. There will always be days when he wakes and the cold comes back, and he feels like he’s suffocating. There will always be nights when he wakes in a cold sweat, with more than a few names on his lips. But, more often, he’s happy, and he’s living the life Tony would’ve wanted him to.

He spends his days, living with a constant feeling coiled up in his gut. He can’t put a name to the feeling, but it feels warm.

It feels like healing.

 

 

 

.

.

.

.

 

 

 

_Hello? Hellooooooo?_

_This thing on? Yes? Alright, good. Lord knows I wouldn’t have been able to do this a second time._

_Hey, Pete. If you’re watching this, then I’m probably dead..._

_God, that was terrible. This isn’t the... Caine Mutiny- a good book, by the way. Definitely recommend it, if you’re a fan of war dramas. I’m... recording this message under the assumption that we win, and you’ve come back from wherever you’ve been for the past 5 years. And, I'm not there to say goodbye._

_We’ve got this whole time travel thing planned- imagine that, Pete, I cracked_ time-travel- _the laws of physics don’t apply to me anymore. Would’ve been great if you were there, kid. Cracking time-travel seems like a pretty esteemed thing to put on your transcripts. The director of MIT would be very impressed by it. You are going to MIT, right? I will haunt your ass from the grave if you don’t, or god forbid, you went to Caltech..._

_‘Shit, sorry about that whole ‘Grave’ thing. This whole time travel thing, it sounds like a pretty solid plan. But- I’ve gotta plan for every contingency, and we’ve all got stakes in this. I’ve got Morgan and Pepper and I need to do everything necessary to keep them safe._ _To get you back._

_I don’t know how things will go- hell, I don’t even know if we’ll win, and I’ll come back a failure, and this whole message will be for nothing._ _But, things will go how they’re supposed to._ _Get that, Peter? How they’re_ supposed _to go. Everything will work out the way it’s meant to._

_I told you once I wanted you to be better, and that still applies, even if I’m gone. So, no doing drugs... and all that other craps teenagers like to get into._

_Be better, kid. Better than me and all the rest._

_You’re someone with and without the suit, and that’s something that’s hard to come by. You’re the future, and you might feel like you’ve got the world riding on your shoulders sometimes but that’s okay. You can handle it._

_Take care of Pepper and Morgan for me, Yeah? Morgan could use some older brothers, and I hear I’ve got this terrible tendency to take children under my wing._

_Between you and the rest, I know I don’t have anything to worry about._

_You’re gonna do great things, Pete. I love you, kid._

 

**Author's Note:**

> How's that for an ending, huh? I tried my best to capture Tony's snark in that last bit, but nothing can measure to the snark of one Tony Stark.  
> My Tumblr is @Oddleoo (come yell at me about how much y'all love Tony, if you so desire)


End file.
